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#character: thalia grace

asvterias · 2 months

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(𝐯𝐢.) 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐣𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

content summary: both y/n & clarisse are total simps for each other, death mentions, luke is NOT catching a break i swear 😭💀, thalia is ruthless, smitten!clarisse & an cobra kai reference

helping palestine 🇵🇸

masterlist

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part seven // part eight

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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will-solace-aaaaa · 2 months

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DO ANY MORE PPL FROM CAMP OR FRIENDS HAVE TUMBLR???

Leo: @leo-valdez-graaa

Frank: @frank-zhang-skreee

Annabeth: @annabeth-in-your-chase

Thalia: @thalia-grace-aaaaaa

Percy: @that-dam-son-of-poseidon

Hazel: @hazel-is-confused

Piper: @piper-mclean-raaa

Jason: @jason-graceeeeee

Kayla: @kaylaknowles-yaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Nico: @nico-di-angelo-aaaaa

Will: DAS ME<3

Magnus: @magnus-falafelking

Alex: @alex-fierro-pr-nightmare

Clarisse: @everyone-is-a-punk

Mallory: @mallory-keen-to-kill

Silena: @silena-beauregard-official

Tj: @thomas-jefferson-jr

Halfborn: @halfbornhalfdead

Ares: @amazing-war-god-ares

Aphrodite: @im-aphrodite-dearies

Apollo/lester: @why-did-i-get-acne

Zoe: @zoe-can-see-the-stars-again

@stop-hammer-time and

@god-of-powerpoint ,too

Other campers/friends: plz comment or something because my MOTHER (naomi solace❤️❤️) has tumblr, and now idk who does or doesn't anymore🥲

Ly @miss-naomi-solace , best mother ever (please unground me)

WE HAVE ALL SEVEN + MORE AND SOME GODS/GODDESES ON HERE???

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jasongracedefenseattorney · 4 months

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i’ve seen this assertion and tweets like it several times so let’s actually check the text, shall we! first, what he is referencing is this moment during the war games in son of neptune:

notice how it says he’s fighting in “a completely unorthodox style” unlike how a roman would fight and this is why they aren’t prepared for his assault. it also says the sheer novelty of losing has thrown the defense into chaos. now considering jason is considered a sword master and spent MONTHS with the greeks, it’s safe to assume he’d have trained in their sword fighting methods. yes jason trained in one specific style of combat but so did percy, we just never see a situation where jason has to sword fight all of the greeks. in fact, he even says in house of hades that he struggled with the strict rules of the romans

now let’s get to the meat and potatoes: who would actually win in a fair fight? many people assert percy could and use this quote from mark of athena as evidence:

now if we look at this, we may think this proves anything but it doesn’t. two teenage boys having a pissing contest and each saying they’re better than the other is not evidence that either one actually is. so here’s the relevant parts of the fight that they’re talking about, which happens right before that scene

jason and percy are fighting and jason knocks percy off of his horse with a lightning blast (i would argue that bouncing lightning off of your sword is not predictable). he has his sword six inches from percy’s face when piper distracts him with charmspeak. this gives percy time to recover and he is able to sweep his legs under jason, making him hit his head and fall unconscious. percy almost kills jason until piper is able to charmspeak him. now piper is clearly a variable in this fight seeing as she stopped each of them from killing the other so if you take her out, what happens? easy. jason stabs percy through the face and wins. it is only because piper stopped jason in the first place that percy even had a chance to get that close to killing him at all. sure they are both highly skilled fighters and had he not used lightning, jason might not have won, but he did use the lightning because he has it along with flight and being able to harness air. percy discovered in tartarus that he was able to bend poison to kill akhlys; what happens when jason realizes he can pull the air from peoples’ lungs?

i understand percy is everyone’s favorite but can we please use our brains from time to time? yall hate jason for not being percy and refuse to acknowledge anything that makes him interesting because you base all of your info off of the lost hero in which he spends the majority of the book without a memory so OBVIOUSLY he wouldn’t be super interesting to read. even in his first chapter of the lost hero, he is knocking the socks off of his opponents AND by the end of the book, already learning greek fighting techniques of slashing rather than stabbing

anyway idk how to wrap this up i just want yall to acknowledge that jason is OP

#pjo #riordanverse #hoo #percy jackson #jason solos your fav #if i posted piper praise y’all wouldn’t bring up annabeth to compare so why do it with jason #he is his own character and it’s just jason y’all do this with #how come no one can ever praise jason without him being compared to percy/nico/thalia???#jason grace my beloved #jason grace solos your fav #jason grace appreciation #jason grace

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lilislegacy · 1 month

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how tall do you think the main characters from percy jackson the the olympians and heroes of olympus are

i sincerely apologize for taking so long to answer. this ask took extensive research. i had to go through the books a LOT, and analyze a lot of comments and apply context

it’s hard to say for sure, given exact heights are never given. but using quotes, context, and reasoning, i think i can make fairly accurate educated guesses. (and as i’ve said before, i think demigods are, on average, a bit taller than humans.)

assuming you mean their full adult heights, these are my educated guesses

percy: 6’2

annabeth: 5’9, possibly 5’10

grover: 5’6-5’8

luke: 6’0

thalia: 5’5-5’7

jason: 6’3

piper: 5’6-5’7

leo: 5’6

frank: 6’4-6’5 (6’0-6’1 before blessing of mars)

hazel: 5’2-5’4

nico: 5’7-5’9

coach hedge: 5’0

reyna: 5’7-5’9

#character heights #pjo headcanons #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #luke castellan #thalia grace #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #frank zhang #hazel levesque #nico di angelo #reyna ramirez arellano #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus #percabeth

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stygianoaths · 1 year

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There are times where I wonder if Luke asked Dionysus to cure his mother, you know, what with Dionysus being the god of madness.

I like to believe that Luke had offered to steal the best bottle of wine there is to be stolen in the world, a solemn promise from the son of Hermes.

"No one would know," he whispered earnestly.

Not even the gods.

And maybe Dionysus had laughed at the idea, no matter how intriguing it was, because of course a demigod of mere fifteen would be so bold yet naive to strike deals with gods so much bigger than he. He shut the child down on the spot. He wouldn't fall for such nonsense.

"And risk my father's wrath? You mock me," he drawled. He had made it a point to omit the fact he was not going to tamper with his uncle's curse either. It was off-limits after all, just like that troublesome nymph. He flicked the dirt from his nails, ignoring the way Luke shook on the spot.

"Well? If that's all you better get going, Lucius," he had said.

And Luke's wrath bubbled over in return.

"What good are you gods for, if you won't help us? You're so useless," he scoffed.

Dionysus's eyes lit up in purple at the jab and he got up from his chair. The ground shook as vines broke through the earth. Something felt off yet familiar with the way Luke did not cower at the display of power. Tch, heroes and their bravado.

"We gods do not owe you mortals anything."

"Yes, you do?" Luke retorted with incredulity, dragging a chair to the side as he inched on Dionysus, uncaring of the purple flames that had begun to circle them, the vines that were dangerously close to tugging him by the ankle.

"You owe your entire existence to humanity! We wrote your stories and remembered you! We fought your battles and we died for you!"

"And?" Dionysus laughed, though there was no humor behind it, "I don't care. You can come up with a thousand sob stories, Luis, and I still won't care. I've seen it all and it's all the same. You demigods are nothing but mayflies, destined to die early since the day you were born."

That seemed to silence the boy.

"Of course, I'll make sure to tell all of that to Castor and Pollux. I'll tell them Pops doesn't give a damn if they die now or later, because apparently it doesn't matter anyways. Tell them how he knew what demigod life would be like for them and still went ahead and brought them into this world anyways."

Or not.

"Take their names out of your mouth, boy," Dionysus warned, vines seizing at Luke's wrists and knees.

"Or what? You're gonna drive me insane just like Mom?"

Dionysus wanted to tell him that he was pretty much halfway there, with the way Luke wore that look of hysteria that bordered on madness. It was so faint yet tangible all the same. Dionysus wanted to push the kid to the limit, see him snap.

"Oh, but that would be too easy!" he sneers, "no, I was thinking more of that little sister of yours you so adore, Annie Bell, her name was? Yes, yes I think madness would look absolutely delicious on a daughter of Athena."

There was absolutely nothing to back up that threat, but it seemed to hit the mark.

Luke had crumpled completely, like something hit him hard in the stomach. Dionysus's lips twitched up in victory. If the boy wanted to play dirty and mention family, then it was only fair he would too.

"Fuck you," Luke whispered, tears cornering in his eyes.

Before the god could act on his threat, however, the sound of trotting hooves nearing towards the Big House made their way through the windows.

Dionysus sighed, raising a hand to release the vines' hold on Luke. He did not want to listen to Chiron's lecture on how threatening the lives of demigods isn't "Camp Director" like.

Luke, on the other hand, slammed the door behind him, scaring off the harpies perched on the roof of the Big House. Dionysus had half a mind to choke the kid with grapevines for the act of insolence.

Chiron came through that same door, placing a hand on the side of it while he looked backwards.

"With that anger, he will get himself killed too early," he murmured with concern. Dionysus snorted, letting the vines return to the soil, the flames around him dying down.

"They all do."

Oh, how he would eat those words, watching Castor's shroud burn.

He was too young. Too young.

A nagging voice reminds him that so was Luke. So was Thalia. So was Annabeth. So was Percy. So was Nico. So was nearly everyone that huddled around the pyres, holding each other and sobbing. Gods, they were crying. War was never kind.

Even that daughter of Ares, who would rather be caught dead than vulnerable, let slip a few tears, and her hissed out "are you happy now?" as she shoved herself past the god of wine will haunt him for millenias to come.

If only he had tried to save May Castellan, given her back to Hermes the way he was supposed to, maybe his son would be standing here with him and watching the pyres light up the night.

Instead, all he could do was listen to Pollux's hysterical screams while Hermes pulls Castor up by the hand, taking the newly deceased to a place where Dionysus can no longer follow.

#in which i bonk dionysus with the 'feel remorse you bastard' sledgehammer #also this is my explanation as to why he helps chris rodriguez get his sanity back because his character arc felt a little choppy #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #dionysus #luke castellan #annabeth chase #may castellan #hermes #percy jackson #thalia grace #clarisse la rue #castor #pollux #chiron #nico di angelo

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percabethlovebot · 7 months

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the percy jackson characters playing dnd except only half of them understand how the game works and the other half either get upset about things that seem inaccurate (annabeth and reyna) or confused why their character doesn’t have the ability to have the specific powers they have (percy)

#posting this bc i did just spend an afternoon classing all of the pjo characters into dnd classes #percy jackson #pjo #riordanverse #incorrect pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #piper mcclean #grover underwood #jason grace #thalia grace #nico di angelo #will solace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #clarisse la rue #reyna ramirez arellano

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lixzey · 3 months

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SERENDIPITY

a/n: there are scenes here from the demigod diaries, specifically the diary of luke castellan. credits to uncle rick for those scenes 💯 the characters and the pjo verse belongs to rick riordan except Amaya Williams and her father.

beta'd by the amazing @lilmaymayy 💘

If you guys wanna be added to the luke castellan taglist, just ask! Anyway, onto the story!

word count: 5.5k

luke and maya masterlist

CHAPTER ONE: THE YOUNG HALF BLOODS

LUKE CASTELLAN didn’t want to be a half-blood.

Who would want to be one? Luke had learned from a young age that he could not live a quiet and peaceful life. He was a demigod. If you think that sounds cool, think again. All those Greek monsters from the stories? They are real. Demigods are monster magnets. Monsters can sense them even from miles away.

Luke was nine when he ran away from home. His home life wasn’t exactly ideal. For as long as he could remember, he knew his mother wasn’t normal. Sure, some mothers had addictions, were abusive, and such, but his mother was on a whole new level. At the young age of three, Luke was terrified of his mother’s fits. Her stormy eyes would turn green and she would start screaming Danger! Terrible fate! in a deep, far away voice. Every time it happened, Luke would hide in the furthest corner of his closet, covering his ears while his mother screamed again and again as tears streamed down his face. He felt helpless that he couldn’t do anything for his mother. Luke prayed and prayed for someone to come and save him and his mother, but no one came. Not even his father.

Luke had known who his father was since he was four. His mother always muttered his name, how could he not understand that? Luke was a son of Hermes, he wasn't clueless like how the gods expected him to be. There was a photo at the top of the mantle of the once cozy house that Luke never got a chance to see: a photo of a happy couple with a squirming little baby, them, his once so perfect family.

Luke wondered why his father abandoned him and his mother if they were this perfect family when he was a baby? He prayed day and night to his father but as the days passed, Luke learned to resent his father—blaming him for all of his misery and for what had happened to his mother—if it wasn’t for him leaving maybe his mother wouldn’t be unstable, if it wasn’t for him he could’ve had a proper childhood, if it wasn’t for him he could’ve had a nurturing mother.

Luke would get extremely jealous of children with loving parents—the life he was deprived of—he would watch as mothers tended to their children in his neighborhood, he would watch fathers play with their children, while all he had was a broken mother and a deadbeat father.

Because of that, Luke packed up and ran away and didn’t look back. He’s come to understand that no one will ever rescue him; he has to take his fate into his own hands.

Living alone on the streets at the age of nine is harder than it looked. At first, Luke thought it would all be a great adventure, just like in the stories he heard before, but he eventually realized that living in that house—if you could even call that a house—even with his possessed mother, is safer than fending for himself.

Luke hadn’t brought a weapon with him when he left, not even one of those knives from the kitchen that had never been used and was only rusting in the kitchen drawer, and his carelessness had nearly killed him more than once. He resorted to diving in dumpsters to try to disguise his scent and never stayed in one place for long, always on the move with hardly enough time to steal a few hours—even minutes—of sleep using his backpack as a pillow.

By the second month, Luke nearly admitted defeat. He’d sell his soul to some dark god for a good night’s sleep and a hot meal. He’s exhausted and filthy, penniless and constantly on the run from monsters and well-meaning mortals alike. His backpack felt far heavier than it should and he found himself running out of breath almost every time. His clothes, which had once been bordering on too small thanks to a recent growth spurt, now hang off his thin frame, the cuffs frayed and stained beyond recognition.

Luke imagined all the normal families living in those cozy houses he once passed. He wondered what it would be like to have a home—a proper home—to know where his next meal was coming from, and not have to worry about getting eaten by monsters every day. He barely remembered what it was like to sleep in a real bed. Luke was tired of fending for his life, but eventually he managed to get the hang of living day to day with a promise to himself that he will never be like his father.

He traveled on foot, to state by state, lonely and miserable. Once, when he stopped by in a town for a while, Luke tried to befriend a mortal, but whenever he told them the truth about himself, they didn’t understand. He’d confess that he was the son of Hermes, the immortal messenger dude with the winged sandals. He’d explain that monsters and Greek gods were real and very much alive in the modern world. His mortal friends would say, “That is so cool! I wish I was a demigod!” Like it’s some sort of game and he’d always ended up leaving.

For five years Luke fought hard to survive. He shoplifted food from convenience stores and tried to fight off monsters with a pocket knife he had stolen from a family having a picnic at a park he once passed. Even though he’d never met his father and didn't really want to, he shared some of his talents. Along with being messenger of the gods, his father is also the god of merchants—which explains why he was good with money—and travelers, which explains why the so-called divine god left his mother without ever looking back at the family he supposedly built. Hermes is also the god of thieves, hence the shoplifting and stealing. It wasn’t an ideal life for a child. He was barely living, but eventually Luke just simply learned to live the life he was forced to.

When Luke was fourteen, he had met Thalia—the daughter of Zeus. The meeting had been an accident (it wasn’t). They had literally run into each other in a dragon’s cave outside Charleston and teamed up to stay alive. At first Luke was skeptical of trusting Thalia. No one else in his life had ever understood him, but she did. Thalia fighting off monsters should’ve been Luke’s first clue, that Thalia was like him—a demigod. But unlike him, Thalia had it worse. She was a forbidden kid, born out of a pact sworn on the River Styx. Luke eventually trusted Thalia and the two chose to team up to stay alive, subsequently traveling across the country while fending for themselves.

Being with Thalia made Luke feel less lonely. He finally had a friend, a friend who understood the struggles he had gone through his whole life. With her, battling monsters didn’t feel that scary anymore.

At some point, they arrived at Richmond, Virginia where Thalia followed a goat—Amaltheia. Luke didn’t understand why they were following a goat. Why were they following a goat? He didn’t know. Thalia then told Luke that it was Amaltheia who led her to him, that their meeting wasn’t by accident and decided to follow her thinking that Amaltheia was sent by her father, Zeus. Thalia could flash her blue eyes, give him one kind word, and she can get him to do pretty much anything—even though it was against his better judgment.

Amaltheia led Thalia and Luke to an old mansion. Once inside—thanks to Luke’s skills (which he isn’t proud of)—they realized that the mansion was a trap, a deadly one at that. As they were trying everything to escape, they met Halcyon Green, a demigod son of Apollo who was cursed by the gods for saving a girl’s life with his ability to see into the future. He had been imprisoned and unable to speak. A part of Halcyon’s curse was to lure demigods into being eaten by the three leucrotae—a terrifying monster that cannot be defeated by man nor god.

Luke already knew the gods could be cruel. His own father had ignored him for fourteen years. But Halcyon Green’s curse was just plain wrong. It was evil. Luke desperately wanted to find a way to rescue him and Thalia. But Hal told them that every demigod thought that at first, that they could escape, but soon realized it wasn't possible. Thalia was able to claim the Aegis—a bracelet that transforms into a replica of her father’s shield—a blessing from Zeus. After hours of searching, they discovered that the only way to defeat the leucrotae was making Greek fire.

In the end, Hal decided that he would sacrifice himself to give them time to escape. But before he did, Hal had predicted Luke's future but left him vague answers when asked about it. Hal later gave Luke his personal diary and a celestial bronze knife. Luke and Thalia successfully escaped, shaken, but nonetheless unscathed. Luke gripped his backpack close, the diary and the celestial bronze knife—the only remnants of Halcyon Green’s life—safe inside with the word Promise, that Hal had written.

I promise, Hal, Luke thought. I’ll learn from your mistakes. If the gods ever treat me that badly, I’ll fight back. Luke wouldn’t let him down like the gods damned them to be.

The two ran through the streets of Richmond until they found a small park where they cleaned themselves the best they could. Then they laid low until dark. The two didn’t bother to talk about what had happened while they wandered through neighborhoods and industrial areas. Luke and Thalia had no plan, no glowing goat to follow anymore. They were bone tired, but neither of them felt like sleeping or stopping. Luke wanted to get as far as possible from that burning mansion. It wasn’t the first time they’d barely escaped with our lives, but they had never succeeded at the expense of another demigod’s life.

Thalia suggested heading to their old camp on the James River as they shivered in the cold of the night. It would take at least a day to get there, but it was as good as a plan. The two demigods sat and split a ham sandwich as they ate in silence. The food tasted like cardboard, but they really didn’t have a choice. After the last bite, Luke heard a faint metal ping from a nearby alley. Someone was nearby.

Luke got up, pulling out the dagger Hal gave him as Thalia had her spear and shield at the ready. The two crept along the wall of the warehouse, turning into a dark alleyway that dead-ended at a loading dock piled with old scrap metal. Just then there was a loud clang, a sheet of corrugated tin quivered on the dock. Something—someone—was underneath. Luke crept toward the loading bay until we stood over the pile of metal, Thalia following closely behind. He gestured for her to hold back as he reached for the piece of corrugated metal and mouthed, One, two, three! As soon as he lifted the sheet of tin, something flew at him—a blur of flannel and dark hair. A hammer hurtled straight at his face.

Things could’ve gone very wrong. Fortunately his reflexes were good from years of fighting. Luke dodged the hammer, then grabbed the little girl’s wrist. The hammer went skidding across the pavement. The little girl struggled. She couldn’t have been more than seven years old.

“No more monsters!” she screamed, kicking Luke in the legs. “Go away!”

“It’s okay!” He tried his best to hold her, but it was like holding a wildcat. Thalia looked too stunned to move. She still had her spear and shield ready.

“Thalia,” Luke said. “put your shield away! You’re scaring her!”

Thalia unfroze. She touched the shield and it shrank back into a bracelet. She dropped her spear. “Hey, little girl,” she said, sounding more gentle than he’d ever heard. “It’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you. I’m Thalia. This is Luke.”

“Monsters!” the little girl wailed, tears staining her face.

“No,” Luke promised. The poor thing wasn’t fighting as hard, but she was shivering, terrified of them. “But we know about monsters,” Luke explained softly. “We fight them too.”

Luke held her, more to comfort than restrain now. Eventually she stopped kicking. She felt cold. Her ribs were bony under her flannel pajamas. He wondered how long this little girl had gone without eating. She was even younger than Luke had been when he ran away. Despite her fear, she looked at him with large eyes. They were startlingly gray, beautiful and intelligent. A demigod—no doubt about it. Luke got the feeling she was powerful—or she would be, if she survived.

“You’re like me?” she asked, still suspicious, but she sounded a little hopeful, too.

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “We’re…” he hesitated, not sure if she understood what she was, or if she’d ever heard the word demigod. Luke didn’t want to scare her even worse. “Well, it’s hard to explain, but we’re monster fighters. Where’s your family?”

The little girl’s expression turned hard and angry. Her chin trembled. “My family hates me. They don’t want me. I ran away.”

Luke’s heart felt like it was cracking into a million pieces. She had such pain in her voice—familiar pain. Luke looked at Thalia, and made a silent decision right there that they would take care of this kid.

Thalia knelt next to him. She put her hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Annabeth.”

Luke smiled. He’d never heard that name before, but it was pretty, and it seemed to fit her. “Nice name,” he told her. “I tell you what, Annabeth. You’re pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you.”

Her eyes widened. “You could?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke said earnestly. Then a sudden thought struck him. He reached for Hal’s dagger. It will protect its owner, Hal had said. He had gotten it from the little girl he had saved. Now fate had given them the chance to save another little girl.

“How’d you like a real monster-slaying weapon?” Luke asked her. “This is Celestial bronze. Works a lot better than a hammer.”

Annabeth took the dagger and studied it in awe. She was seven years old at most. What was he thinking giving her a weapon? But she was a demigod. They have to defend themselves. Hercules was only a baby when he strangled two snakes in his cradle. By the time Luke was nine, he’d fought for his life more than a dozen times. Annabeth could use a weapon.

“Knives are only for the bravest and quickest fighters,” Luke told her. His voice caught as he remembered Hal Green, and how he’d died to save them. “They don’t have the reach or power of a sword, but they’re easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy’s armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling you’re pretty clever.”

Annabeth beamed at him, and for that, all his problems seemed to melt. Luke felt as if he’d done one thing right. He swore to himself that he would never let this girl come to harm. “I am clever!” she said.

Thalia laughed and tousled Annabeth’s hair. Just like that—they had a new companion. “We’d better get going, Annabeth,” Thalia said. “We have a safe house on the James River. We’ll get you some clothes and food.”

Annabeth’s smile wavered. For a moment, she had that wild look in her eyes again. “You’re…you’re not going to take me back to my family? Promise?”

Luke swallowed the lump out of his throat. Annabeth was so young, but she’d learned a hard lesson, just like he and Thalia had. Their parents had failed them. The gods were harsh and cruel and aloof. Demigods had only each other.

Luke put his hand on Annabeth’s shoulder.“You’re part of our family now. And I promise I’m not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?”

“Deal!” Annabeth said happily, clutching her new dagger.

Thalia picked up her spear. She smiled at Luke with approval. “Now, come on. We can’t stay put for long!”

The trio left Richmond, headed to their safe house on the James River. The three of them fought for survival and avoided monsters together. It wasn’t much, but it was home for them—the family they built.

At some point, Thalia got injured by a monster and Luke and Annabeth wanted to rest. Given the situation, Luke decided to take the girls to his mother's house to treat Thalia’s wounds and to gather up a few supplies as Annabeth rested. There, Luke finally meets his father, Hermes, for the first time in thirteen years. Luke was angry and resented his father. He demanded to know why he had never shown up when Luke had desperately prayed while he hid from his mother when she had fits, or when he was on his own, running away from monsters. During this conversation, Hermes inadvertently revealed that he knew of Luke's fate. Luke asked about it since Hal had only given him vague answers, but Hermes refused to tell him as he had already said too much. Luke then told his father that he couldn't possibly love him if he wouldn't tell him and angrily left with Thalia and Annabeth.

Eventually they met Grover Underwood, a satyr tasked to bring them back to Camp Half Blood. A safe haven for demigods. A place where monsters and mortals can’t come. Grover led the three of them to camp, but it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

Monsters attacked them from left to right. All three Furies and a pack of Hellhounds attacked, Cyclopes followed, and one thing led to another. Thalia sacrificed herself so Luke and Annabeth could get to camp safely. Luke thought she was stupid to sacrifice herself, he yelled at Thalia to not do it but she was as stubborn as her father. Luke held a crying Annabeth while fighting tears of his own as they entered the barrier between Camp Half Blood and the mortal world, where Thalia breathed her last breath as Zeus turned his daughter into a pine tree.

“Don’t worry, Annabeth. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Luke soothed the young girl in his arms, who mourned the loss of their friend—their sister. Luke vowed to himself that he won’t let the gods treat them horribly ever again.

MAYA WILLIAMS hated being a half-blood.

Why wouldn’t she? Maya grew up alone because she was one. Sure, she wasn’t chased by any monsters, but she lived with one. Her father—Oliver Williams—despised his daughter. Why? Her mother left when Maya was born, right after she was born. Oliver blamed his daughter for that. Maya had no clue on who her mother was, or why she left when she was born. When she would ask her father, he would get angry at her and hit her and yell at her to go to her room. There were times that Oliver would leave for days—weeks, even—leaving Maya with a nanny and the toys he had bought her just to leave him alone and the occasional visits from his secretary (who pitied the young girl). Maya didn’t understand why her father hated her when she only wanted to make her daddy happy.

When Maya was five, she started experiencing strange things. Like white doves flocking near her school that refused to leave how much the exterminators tried. Or that time when her grandparents brought her to the beach and dolphins started swimming towards her. Or that time when she was at the park and swans approached her as she fed the birds with her nanny. As a child, Maya didn’t pay it too much attention. She only thought that animals liked her so much that they couldn’t leave her alone. But when she turned eight, she knew she was different. Apart from having dyslexia and ADHD, she had this aura of beauty, causing everyone to like her, want her even. Aside from that, Maya could ask anyone for anything she wanted and she would get it. Like that time when her grandmother took her out to shop for clothes when she saw a pretty dollhouse that she wanted. It wasn’t because she was spoiled or anything, but when she would ask anyone out on the street for anything, they’d give it to her—no questions asked.

When Maya was six, she heard her father one night drunk in his room, crying over her mother. It was weird for Maya to see her father crying without any cameras because he was an actor, so as a curious little girl, Maya peeked into his room. She saw her father, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a photo in the other, which Maya assumed was her mother.

“Oh, Aphrodite, why did you have to leave me?” Oliver sobbed, titling the glass to his lips. “You left me with nothing! You left me alone to raise—”

Maya ran to her room before she even heard the rest of what her father said. She packed a bag of clothes, grabbed food from the pantry, medical supplies in the bathroom, and money from her dad’s office before running away from home and never looking back. Maya wasn’t stupid. For six long years her father made it clear that he never loved her, therefore she was doing him a favor by leaving. But she understood something. Her mother’s name was Aphrodite. Her mother was the goddess of love. How did a six year old understand that? She didn’t know. It just clicked in Maya’s head—the doves, the dolphins, the swans, were somehow enough to prove that the goddess was her mother.

Maya ran through the streets of New Hampshire as fast as her little legs could carry her, determined to be as far as possible from the place she once called home. She thought it would be easy, like what she’d seen once on tv, but it wasn't—it was far worse than anything she had ever seen. Maya didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. She couldn’t go to her grandparents, they were in Europe. Maya never felt so alone, living by herself in a world not built for little kids, especially a kid like her.

Eventually, Maya got the hang of being on the run. By the second month, she was living from state to state, asking for help—using her charm—to get by. From time to time, the thought of her father would cross her mind. Was he looking for her? Was he worried for her? Did he miss her? Maya wanted nothing more than to have her father’s love, she wanted him to find her—to wrap her in his arms and tell her he missed her and he was sorry for making her feel unloved, but she knew better than to expect that. Maya watched fathers with their little girls, wondering what she did to deserve a father like the one she had—a father so careless enough to let his own child believe that she wasn’t loved and run away from home at seven years old. She couldn’t understand how he hurt a little kid, his own kid.

And then there was the thought of her mother. It was ironic, how Maya was a daughter of the goddess of love and a man who’s incapable of loving. Maya wondered if it was some sort of joke, that she’d been born to parents who didn’t care about her. Or maybe her mother just didn’t think she was pretty enough to be worthy of being her child. It didn’t matter, because she was all alone—her mother never answered her prayers and pleas, proving all of her points. Maya was all on her own, she always had been. The happy little girl was gone, replaced by a little girl terrified by everything the cruel world tossed at her.

At seven years old, Maya has told a million lies—that came from her mother, probably—just to survive. Her clothes were tattered, flaming locks of auburn hair were matted and dirty, and skin bruised like violets from tripping as she ran away from creepy older men who tried to follow her. Maya had been on the run for two years, she had everything under control. She shoplifted from convenience stores and whenever she was caught, Maya would tell them that she lost her parents (which was true, in a sense) and had nowhere else to go. It worked like a charm each and every time, well except for that one time she ran into the police. Maya dreamed of living in peace, a place where she could be just a kid and not having to think where she’d sleep for the night or where she’d get her next meal. Given the state of how she was living, Maya knew it was impossible and maybe she had to learn to live with the miserable life she had. It was then that she held a grudge at her parents. Maya was tired of believing her parents ever loved her, because someone who loves you wouldn’t do any of this. They’re just the ones who gave her life, nothing more.

Maya promised to herself that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again, that she’d never be naive enough to believe that anyone could ever love her.

At eight years old, Maya met Ferdinand—a satyr who had sensed that Maya was a half blood. At first, Maya was scared. Of course she’d be scared, she was still a little girl and Ferdinand looked a lot older than her—she didn’t have great experiences with people older than her—and he had goat horns and legs.

“Don’t be scared, little one. I am a friend,” Ferdinand had explained to Maya, who hid behind a large trash can in an alley.

“Go away! I don’t wanna be friends!” Maya screamed, clutching her fraying backpack close to her chest.

“I can take you to a safer place, little one. A place where no one could hurt you.” Ferdinand explained, taking a step closer to the crying young girl. “I sense that you have been hurt before, am I right?”

Maya didn’t want to believe him. He was a stranger and strangers meant trouble. But something about the goat man felt safe. “I don’t wanna go to your stupid place! Leave me alone!”

“What’s your name?” Ferdinand asked, peering over the trash can.

Maya hesitated, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Not telling.”

“Alright, I’ll go first,” Ferdinand took the risk of walking to Maya’s side. “I’m Ferdinand. I am a satyr, protector of young demigods, or half bloods as they call children of the gods. And you are?”

Maya looked at him, eyes still glazed over with fresh tears. “Maya.”

“Well, young Maya, are you hungry?”

Maya shook her head no, but the grumble of stomach betrayed her. “Hungry,” she mumbled.

“If you’d like, you can come with me to that convenience store just ‘round the corner.” Ferdinand smiled at her, a kind genuine smile that Maya had never seen before in any other person she’s met. Reluctantly, she agreed, keeping her distance as Ferdinand led the way. Maya looked around, wondering how people are not looking at Ferdinand. He literally had goat legs and horns yet no one’s looking at him like an animal.

As soon as Maya was settled with a sandwich and juice box, she asked Ferdinand. “Why aren’t people scared of you, Mr. Ferdinand?”

Ferdinand chuckled. “It’s because of the Mist, young Maya.”

Maya raised a brow. “The Mist? Like perfume?”

“The Mist is what separates the mortal world from our world.”

Maya looked at him as if he was crazy. “What do you mean? Don’t we have one world?”

“Let me take you to Camp Half Blood, little one. Everything will make sense once you arrive.”

“Why should I go with you?” Maya asked, gripping the straps of her backpack, ready to run at any second.

“Because,” Ferdinand chuckled, acknowledging Maya’s skepticism. “There are kids like you at Camp Half Blood. It is a safe haven for young half-bloods like you. It is where the gods claim their children, young Maya.”

“You’re not lying?” Maya asked, big green eyes searching for any malice in the satyr’s eyes. She has had enough from malicious men who wanted to do unspeakable things to her. There was once this man who tried to lure her in with a good meal. When Maya declined, he tried to grab her, luckily Maya escaped—with the help of a little foot stomping and biting. It only fueled her hatred of men.

“I’m not, young Maya.” Ferdinand smiled at her. “It is our duty to protect. I promise I will not let any harm come to you as we travel to camp.”

“You promise?” Promises were never good, Maya hated promises. Promises were always meant to be broken. But this one felt like a tug in her heart, like a way to find who she was.

“On the River Styx, young one.”

Maya didn’t understand what the River Styx meant. Was it a river full of sticks? Despite her worries, Maya trusted him. The two then traveled to Long Island on foot from Massachusetts. Maya learned to trust Ferdinand, who kept her safe no matter what.

“You know, I have a nephew that’s around your age. His name is Grover, a fine protector in the making. He could be your friend once you arrive at camp.” Ferdinand mused as he and Maya—aboard his shoulders—trudged up the highway nearing Half Blood Hill.

“Really? You think he’s gonna play with me? An orphan-”

“You are not an orphan, Maya. You have a mother. I’m sure she’d claim you as soon as you step through the barrier.” Ferdinand insisted. Maya doubted that, but decided against voicing out her thoughts. She had prayed and prayed for so long, but her mother never answered, so why would she? Now that Maya was finally at camp?

As soon as Maya arrived at Camp Half Blood, she was in awe—giddy, almost. It wasn’t what Maya expected it to be. Camp was beautiful, far from the dumpster Maya had thought it to be. Every camper had necklaces, with beads indicating the years they’ve been at camp—Maya wanted one so badly and tried asking Ferdinand to make her one. There was a strawberry patch—much to Maya’s excitement, she loves strawberries and wanted to go straight to the patches. And for the main attraction, the twelve cabins, which Maya assumed one was her mother’s since Ferdinand had explained it was for each of the Olympian gods.

Maya was then welcomed by a crowd—campers of all ages, a grumbling man in a Hawaiian shirt, and half horse, half man.

“Welcome, young demigod,” Chiron greeted the young girl who was looking up at him with wide eyes. It’s not everyday that she sees another half human animal.

“Uh, what are you?” Maya asked, her hand immediately went flying to her mouth. “Sorry, I-”

Chiron laughed. “It’s alright, I apologize for not introducing myself properly. I’m Chiron, a centaur and the activities director of camp. And you are, young lady?”

“Maya,” she squeaked, eyes still wide. “Maya Williams.”

“Welcome to Camp, Maya. You’ll do great things, I know it.”

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp. Everyone stared at Maya like she’d just done something wrong.

“What did I do?” Maya asked, her lower lip trembling. She had been at camp barely a day, and she had already done something wrong. Was everything in her life always going to go wrong?

“Look down,” One of the campers said, pointing to Maya’s clothes.

Maya looked down and her eyes widened once more, she looked different. Her clothes weren't tattered and filthy anymore. Now, she was wearing a beautiful white sleeveless gown that went down to her ankles. Delicate gold armbands circled her biceps. An intricate necklace of amber, coral, and gold flowers glittered on her chest, and her hair was perfect: lush and long and flaming locks of auburn hair, braided to the side with gold ribbons. The filthy child, gone—as if she never was. Her mother had claimed her, just like that. Maya had been expecting that her mother would personally come and claim her, but she didn’t. Maya should’ve known better than to expect a literal goddess to come down and meet her child.

Chiron folded his front legs and bowed to her, and all the campers followed his example. “Hail, Amaya Williams,” Chiron announced proudly, as if she did something honorable. “Daughter of Aphrodite, lady of the doves, goddess of love!”

friendly reminder: this is how small maya was when she ran away 🤭

taglist:

@mischiefmoons (special mention to jo cuz i love love love trouble!verse 💯💘) @iliketopgun @pleasingregulus

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all-da-ladies-luv-leoo · 7 months

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pjo characters as songs from my spotify playlist:

Percy: Run Boy Run by Woodkid

↳ tomorrow is another day and you won’t have to hide away; you’ll be a man, boy but for now it’s time to run

Annabeth: W.I.T.C.H. by Devon Cole

↳ and she don’t wanna be anybody else, she’s a woman in total control of herself

Grover: Heaven by The Walkmen

↳ stick with me, oh your my best friend; all of my life, you’ve always been

Nico: This is Home by Cavetown

↳ get a load of this monster, he doesn’t know how to communicate; his mind is in a different place

Leo: Trying My Best by Anson Seabra

↳ i hope that you can see the pain that i’ve seen and all of the times i’ve spent being not me; i hope you know that it’s not always happy in my head

Piper: Girl is a G*n by Halsey

↳ it’s a shot in the dark, i’m not a walk in the park, i come loaded with the safety switched off

Jason: Keanu Reeves by Chase Petra

↳ and i hurt like a child with an unreconciled need to carve out a smile on a face i revile

Hazel: Could Have Been Me by The Struts

↳ don’t wanna live as an untold story; i’d rather go out in a blaze of glory

Frank: Work Song by Hozier

↳ no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her

Reyna: Centuries by Fall Out Boy

↳ some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold but you will remember me; remember me for centuries

Will: Sun Machine by Bears in Trees

↳ i’ve got something to prove, i don’t know what it is yet but it’s golden as the stars you drew in the corners of my eyes

Thalia: Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears

↳ help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure; nothing ever lasts forever

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percabeth #nico di angelo #leo valdez #grover underwood #piper mclean #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna avila ramirez arellano #will solace #thalia grace #spotify #playlist #pjo characters as songs

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asvterias · 9 days

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(𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢.) 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐣𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

content summary: foreshadowing luke’s death, luke is NOT catching a break i swear 😭💀, shading of percabeth, sassy!clarisse, overdramatic!clarisse, y/n is pining over clarisse (RIGHTFULLY SO), clueless!clarisse, offended!percy, y/n coming for chris’ NECK, y/n is ABSOLUTELY brutal towards chris

helping palestine 🇵🇸

masterlist

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part six // part seven

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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decaffeinatedpartymuggoop · 15 days

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Okay, we all know being a demigod is a shit position. Its scary and gets you killed in really nasty ways. But I feel like being a Big Three Kid has to be the shitiest position in all the shit positions.

Like, imagine being Thalia Grace. Your dad is king of the gods, lord of the skies. Led a war to get rid of a tyrant. And the only thing you get is his scorned wife AND brother, who both try to kill you (with one technically succeeding), a drunk of a mother, and brother who you thought was dead. Oh, wait, he’s not dead! No instead he was used as an offering to appease your dad’s wife and help fight in a war and prevent mass destruction.

Or maybe you can imagine being Percy. Son of the sea god, the stormbringer, the earthshaker. You get to live with a disgusting, abusive man for around 6 years. Who smells like literal shit. All because your scent as a demigod is too strong, BECAUSE of who your father is. You see things that you aren’t supposed to see and do things that people can’t do and go years thinking something is wrong with you. That your the problem. Then you get to the one place where you’re supposed to be save. But! Here is the kicker! You’re not! Your uncles hate you and you’ve been accused of stealing a symbol of power. A series of events that will kick off a war, and guess what. You’re a center point for it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.

Mhm, but then there’s Hazel. Daughter Pluto, god of the underworld and riches. But that doesn’t really change anything does it? She’s still living in 1930s America, in a red state. One where confederate flags still hang if you go deep enough into the city. She go to a school where the kids are supposed to be just like her! They still don’t like her tho. She’s got no idea who your father is, only that he left her with a parting gift. Only it’s not really a gift. Sure, she can pull rubies and diamonds from the earth, all worth millions. But anyone who’s ever gonna touch it will die. She lives with her mother, a woman gone so mad with greed it kills her. And Hazel, by the way. Laying dead Alaska, inhaling oil. But it doesn’t end there! She can’t have her mother suffering for eternity, can she? The answer is no. Hazel gets to spend the next 70 years in the Fields of Asphodel. It still doesn’t end! Because when she’s brought back to life, she gets to fight in a war against giants, her sad story seemingly never ending.

Nico’s a son of one of the Big Three, one of the most ancient and most powerful. But most people look at him as something bad, something not worth taking a second glance at. Something too look away from, mostly. He’s from the 30s, spent years in a magical time casino with only his sister at his side. She doesn’t stay for long though, she dies soon after they discover their heritage. And he doesn’t remember his mother much, a name without a face. A face without a name. He survived an attempted assassination at 2, though it wouldn’t be the only time his was life was threatened. He clings to his sister, even though she’s dead. He’s the son of the god of the underworld, is he not? There had to be a way, and there is. Only she won’t talk to him, she seems more concerned with communicating with the guy who got her killed instead. She chooses rebirth, and he decides to lay it to rest. She’s not coming back, and he has a war to fight in. (He gets stuck in a jar and forcibly outed a few years later, but that’s a lot to get into for now.)

Jason Grace is a pillar of New Rome, their golden boy, their American boy. He’s a son of Jupiter, a natural born leader. He’s been at camp for as long as he can remember, he wants to be praetor soon. He’s had a rocky start, but maybe he’ll be one of the lucky ones. Retire a veteran and live a long life with Reyna in New Rome. Only that never happened. He has no idea where he is, there’s a girl holding his hand, and she’s cute but it feels wrong. They get attacked and people come in and call him a Greek demigod, familiar, yes, but still wrong. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t put things into perspective the way it does for Piper and Leo. He’s goes to a quest to rescue Hera, the name sounds wrong. He nearly dies but at least he remembers who he is. He spends the next 6 months trying to get back home, even though he isn’t too sure on where or what home is. He gets there, eventually, but it doesn’t stop there. He’s dragged on quests and battles and fights in the war but at least he survives it, he’s still there. Apollo needs help, he and Piper give him aid. He gets dumped. He doesn’t get to he a veteran in New Rome. Not with Reyna, not with Piper, not with anybody. He doesn’t get kids or grandkids. No, he gets shot down, another demigod buried.

You could be any one of them, really. Pick your poison, but I guarantee you won’t like any of them. Spending years trying to find a place where you belong, where you feel safe. Only for it to never come.

Percy, who, if you really look at the books, isn’t really all that well liked until he’s at least 2 years into camp. Only to then be sidelined because the courages, brave, fearless daughter of Zeus is back from the dead. Nico, the son of one of the most feared and hated gods. Who has death written all over him, who excludes it so much animals can smell it and humans can sense it, who’s been ostracized and pushed off to the side since he was 10. Hazel, who was treated like disease as soon as she stepped foot on camp soil. Who’s gone her whole life looked as something that’s cursed, that will only bring misfortune, a bad omen.

Shit positions, all of them.

#Hazel and Jason make my head spin #also jaosn and Percy #I like how they both in a way didn’t want glory or to be some hero #i don’t think Jason mentions it much but they kids and grandkids mention in BOO is very telling #Percy’s is from the musical but whatever we all know the musical is canon #and show Percy thinking something is wrong with him and that he needs a mental evaluation of some kind is #everything #I’m making that canon now #I’d love to get a Thalia book #a trilogy maybe #first book is her with her mom and Jason + Luke and Annabeth on the run #ending with her dying #2nd book takes place after her resurrection and during the the war #final book is life with the hunters #and how she found peace in a world designed for her to struggle #I feel like out of all of them big three kids she’s the only one who got her happy ending #and in the fandom the hunters have gotten the reputation of being where Rick puts characters that can’t be shipped with anyone #but I really don’t think it’s the case with her #she’s also one of the only demigods where I think her story has come to a close #like it’s done #Percy’s story is almost done too #Nico and Hazel I feel aren’t quite there yet #percy jackson #thalia grace #hazel levesque #jason grace #nico di angelo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians

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